


found a fresher morning

by Hirikka



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Witcher - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Creation Myth, Fictional Religion & Theology, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Is Not a Witcher, M/M, Magical Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, The Eternal Flame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hirikka/pseuds/Hirikka
Summary: How the Sun came to the Continent
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135
Collections: GRB2020 Team Works





	found a fresher morning

_The Sun has left his blackness, and has found a fresher morning,_

_And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night;_

_-William Blake_

_**_

_Long ago, the Moon and Stars lit the Continent, providing all the light that the people and animals needed to thrive. Then, the Conjunction of the Spheres brought monsters to the land. Monsters that thrived in the shadows and hungered and hunted. The peoples of the Continent prayed to the gods for aid—in response the Moon started to walk the Continent, hunting the monsters._

_This left the world even darker, and though all the races feared the monsters, humans who could not see in the dark fared the worst. They envied and hated the elves and other native peoples for their ability to see by the light of the stars, and they remembered a time before they came to the Continent. Another world where things had been different._

_Perhaps, given time, the gods would have been able to restore balance to the world, but mortal lives are short, and they did not have the time to wait._

_They started to seek solace and saviors in other places—_

_Belief and hope are powerful forces. But then, so are fear and hatred._

_**_

“Just let them be,” Yennefer suggests. Geralt frowns at her. She is resplendent in a gown that ripples like moonlight on the water. The goddess of the seas does not care much about humans, and she doesn’t understand Geralt’s obsession with them. “You did not create them, they aren’t your responsibility.”

“Someone ought to look after them,” Geralt says. “Or they will die before they’ve had a chance to begin.” 

“They wouldn’t be the first, and they won’t be the last,” Yennefer points out. “Why are they different?”

Geralt shrugs. He’s not entirely sure what it is about them. Perhaps it is not his place to interfere, and yet, something makes him want to get involved. 

Yennefer sighs, the sound an echo of waves crashing over rocks. “Don’t stray too far.”

With that, she turns and is gone into the darkness. The sharp smell of salt lingers for a moment before Geralt turns away—towards the forest. 

**

At first, it is the same as every other journey Geralt has made. The forest is dark and silent as he travels deeper. Animals tend to stick to the edges of the forest these days; the creatures born in the deepest darkness are not to be trifled with.

Then, so subtly he is not sure exactly when it started, Geralt realizes he feels warmth. He pauses for a moment, scanning the darkness around him until he spots it: a place where the darkness seems less solid and impenetrable. He stalks forward, and as he travels, the warmth grows and so does the light. He continues forward, the dark fading to grey, and then he realizes he can see the details around him, greens and browns that he hasn’t seen in what feels like eons. 

Another half hour of walking brings him to a clearing. Flowers bloom across the vibrant grass, a riot of colors and life. It is so bright that Geralt needs to take a moment to let his eyes adjust, and he basks in the warmth as he does so. After stepping further into the clearing, he sees a figure sitting in the center of the space. He’s dressed in shining gold, and he’s watching Geralt with brilliant blue eyes. 

“Hello,” the figure says, rising to his feet. 

“Who are you?” Geralt asks. He moves closer. The light seems to be emanating from the figure, so he is certainly not human, nor is he any of the other earthen races, but he’s not a deity that Geralt is familiar with, and he should know them all. 

The figure gives a crooked smile. “I’m not… sure.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “They called me the Eternal Flame…”

“Where did you come from?”

“Humanity. They, well, created me. I suppose. Or their belief did.”

Geralt has met minor deities like this; ideals and forces that generate enough belief that they become real. They are different from Geralt and Yennefer and the other elder gods, but not without their own powers. 

None of them shine as brightly as this Eternal Flame does. 

“What are you doing out here?” Geralt asks.

“I left,” the Eternal Flame says with a frown. “They wanted to use my power to harm others. Other humans and other races. It felt wrong.” He spreads his hands, gesturing to the flowers around them. “I wanted to create, not destroy.”

“Hm.” Geralt considers this. He’d seen humans create religions before, and they often floundered in the face of the terrors of this world, the darkness. He supposes he can see why the Eternal Flame would be different; if the humans truly never let the flame die, it would give them power, keep the darkness at bay. It would also consume and consume and leave nothing but charred remains. 

“You won’t make me go back, will you?” 

Geralt has never heard of a young deity abandoning those who worship them; their power is reliant on the belief that creates them. He isn’t sure what the right path is, but he can’t imagine that sending him back, letting humans have this power would be the right thing to do. “No, I won’t make you go back.”

“Are you going to destroy me?” The voice draws Geralt from his thoughts, and he looks back to the Eternal Flame. He’s sunk down into the grass, and he is watching Geralt with wide, worried eyes. “I know who you are,” he continues. “The Moon, the protector, the monster hunter… I think they made me a monster. I won’t fight you.”

Perhaps he _should_ ,but Geralt feels a pang of sorrow at the thought of snuffing out this warmth, this brightness. “You aren’t a monster,” Geralt says after a moment. “If you were, you wouldn’t have left.”

The Eternal Flame smiles, and it feels like the _dawn_. 

**

“What should I call you?” Geralt asks. They’ve left the clearing and started walking; Geralt isn’t quite sure what to do yet, but he didn’t like the idea of staying still. 

“Hm?”

Geralt almost smiles at the fact that this being is picking up his mannerisms. “Well, you don’t want to be what you _were_ , so Eternal Flame doesn’t really seem right.”

“A fair point… Although, I’ve never had to choose a name before.”

Geralt remains quiet. It feels important that he chooses his own name; names have power, especially amongst entities like them. 

“I think I’d like to be called Jaskier.” 

“Jaskier,” Geralt repeats, testing the name. He’s glad of the choice, although he doesn’t say so now. Jaskier is choosing something bright and alive, defining himself through something that grows rather than destroys.

Jaskier nods. “Yes, I think that will do nicely.”

**

“So…” Jaskier stretches the word out. “Where are we going?”

“Vesemir,” Geralt says. “He might be able to tell us what to do.”

Jaskier bites his bottom lip. “Do you think he’ll make me return?”

Geralt shakes his head. “No, definitely not that. It isn’t safe for deities to live amongst mortals; it upsets the balance of the world.”

“Ah, good.” Jaskier still looks worried, though, and Geralt isn’t sure what to say to reassure him. He’s honestly not sure what they’ll do about Jaskier. “What were you doing in the woods?” 

“Hunting,” Geralt says. “The monsters have been getting worse…”

Jaskier looks around nervously. “I didn’t see any monsters.”

Geralt gives a little shrug. “They don’t like the light.”

“Oh!” The glow around Jaskier brightens, light radiating out farther in his excitement. Then he dims slightly. “That’s why I was created, huh? To keep the monsters away from the humans?”

“Maybe at first, but if they wanted to use you to destroy, they weren’t just looking for protection.”

“I suppose… I don’t want to leave them without protection though. They aren’t all bad.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Geralt says with a confidence he doesn’t entirely feel. It’s worth it for the way that Jaskier lights up.

“Thank you. I’m glad you found me.”

**

Jaskier starts to sing as they walk. Geralt watches as the world around them reacts to Jaskier’s voice. Birds join in his song, and the smaller creatures of the forest start to appear to watch him as he passes. Flowers bloom in his footprints, bright and golden as the light of Jaskier’s magic. Geralt can’t remember when he last saw so much _life._ Even when they leave the forest and enter a barren stretch of land where nothing had grown for years, a few stubborn flowers grow where Jaskier steps. Geralt is so distracted watching Jaskier that he doesn’t notice the elves until they are surrounded.

“Halt.” A woman steps forward, bow drawn. 

Geralt doesn’t move, watching the gathered force. He could cloak the area in darkness and lead Jaskier away, but he isn’t sure that he could do so without anyone getting hurt. Jaskier presses close to his side, the glow around him dimming with his nerves. 

“What do you want?” Geralt asks. 

The woman scoffs. “What we want is not something _you_ can provide.”

“Then why stop us?” Geralt asks, trying to keep his tone calm.

“For him.” The woman shifts her arrow so that it points towards Jaskier. “We know who you are, where you come from. Who you _serve._ ”

“I don’t serve anybody,” Jaskier protests. “I—”

“Enough,” the woman cuts him off. 

“He speaks the truth,” Geralt says, allowing more of his power to shine through, hoping the reminder of who he is will calm their tempers.

“Perhaps, but he is a human god, and he is bound to serve their needs.” 

“And those needs seem to be destruction,” another elf agrees.

“I know why you are concerned,” Jaskier says, taking a step away from Geralt to stand on his own. “But I don’t wish to be a tool for destruction. I am traveling to find a better path.”

“Why should we believe you?”

Jaskier looks around the group. They are all wary and suspicious, giving him nothing to work with. Then, he spots a lute attached to one of their packs. The glow around him brightens, and he grins as he points to the lute. “Can I borrow that?”

“For what?” the elven woman asks.

“To show you that I mean you no harm.”

A new elf steps forward, and from the way the other elves move aside in deference Geralt realizes who this is: King Filavandrel. The king of the elves takes the lute and holds it out to Jaskier. 

Jaskier takes it almost reverently and starts to pluck out a tune. It is bright and seems to warm the air around them. Jaskier closes his eyes as he starts to play faster, the song picking up pace, and Geralt watches in awe as all around them the barren desert bursts to life. Trees grow rapidly until sweet smelling fruits hang heavy on the branches suddenly surrounding them. The song draws to a close, and for a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air. 

Then, Filavandrel steps forward and bows to Jaskier. “Thank you for your blessing.”

Jaskier shifts, almost nervously. “I just want to help.” He tries to pass the lute back to the king.

“Keep it,” Filavandrel says. “You have given us a way to survive for a time. Perhaps you will be able to do more by the time your journey ends.”

Jaskier dips his head, smiling as he holds the lute closer. “I’ll do my best.”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s elbow and leads him out of the grove, not wanting to give the elves a chance to decide they’d rather keep Jaskier for themselves. They are not followed as they leave, and Geralt allows himself to relax once they’re out of sight. “That was impressive.”

Jaskier grins brightly. “You think so?”

“Fishing for more compliments?”

“Well I wouldn’t _complain._ ”

**

“Do you see your brothers often?” Jaskier asks. It is the closest to his true question that he feels comfortable with; he wants to know if he and Geralt will be able to see each other once Jaskier’s new path is found, but he’s not sure if that is even something that Geralt would want. 

“Not really,” Geralt admits. “Not as often as I might like. Our domains are different enough that our paths don’t cross often. And with the monsters… I’ve been busy.”

“I see.” Jaskier picks at the embroidery on his sleeve. He almost asks about the two of them, but his courage fails him.

**

Geralt notices the way Jaskier’s light dims as they approach the old keep in the heart of the mountains. He’s grown steadily quieter as they approach Vesemir’s home, and Geralt doesn’t like it, wishes there was some way to ease Jaskier’s worry. 

“Do you want to wait a little longer?”

Jaskier takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “No, we ought to finish this.”

Geralt watches him for a moment before he nods and continues along the path up to the keep. They cross the remaining distance and find Vesemir waiting for them at the gates. 

“Welcome home, Geralt.” Vesemir pulls him into a hug before releasing him and turning his attention to Jaskier. “You’ve traveled a long way, little flame. What brings you to my door?”

Jaskier stands up straighter. “I hoped you might be able to give me guidance: I wish to find a place where my powers will not be used to upset the balance of the world, such as it is.” He hesitates for a moment and then adds, “I want to _help_.”

“There hasn’t been balance in this world for a long time,” Vesemir says. His tone gives nothing away, but Geralt can tell he’s thinking about something. “Perhaps that is something we can change.”

“How?” Geralt asks.

“The Conjunction gave too much power to the dark, and to the things that live there. So a greater light is needed to restore the balance.”

“You think I can do that?” Jaskier asks, shine brightening with his excitement.

“How would that work?” Geralt asks.

“Jaskier would join you in your home Above,” Vesemir says. “You would rule half the time, and Jaskier the other; he will drive back the darkness in the Day, and you will continue to watch the dark in the Night.”

“Would that be alright?” Geralt asks. “Would you mind living with me?”

Jaskier grins, and he _shines._ “My dear, I’d like nothing more.”

**

_That is how Night and Day came to the Continent. Life flourished under the light of the Sun, and the gentle light of the Moon offered respite to those who prefer the dark. A balance preserved through the love shared by the two gods._


End file.
